


the new world is calling me now

by hopeless_hope



Series: i feel worthy, somehow [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Sexual Assault, Depression, Guilt, Homeless Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Poor Peter Parker, Precious Peter Parker, Self-Hatred, Team as Family, Tony is a dad, Whump, Worried Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 12:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16743883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_hope/pseuds/hopeless_hope
Summary: “May, I – “ he tries desperately. (He should know by now that repentance never worked for him.)“Go!” she cries, shaking apart and Peter takes one last look at her before turning and leaving, tears and self-loathing clogging his throat.Every day, he comes back and knocks, and she always tells him the same thing. “I love you. But I’m not ready to see you yet.”Eventually, Peter just stops trying.(In which Peter Parker is homeless and knows the only part of him that's worth anything at all is Spider-Man. The Avengers think differently.)





	the new world is calling me now

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song "Worthy" by Jacob Banks.

Peter feels like an oxymoron.

He steals. He stops people from stealing. He breaks into places. He halts muggings and robberies.

But he needs food and his kids need food, and God forgive him, but he will do anything, commit any petty crime if it means the kids he’s taken under his wing have food in their stomachs before they go to sleep with nothing but old jackets to pillow their heads.

So yeah, that’s just how being homeless works. (It sucks.)

Sometimes, Peter gets lucky. Sometimes, people are so grateful to ~~him~~ Spider-Man that they offer him money or food or a snack if they can spare it. It used to make him uncomfortable. He started Spider-Man because ~~of Ben~~ he wanted to help people. He never meant to get anything in return.

But then May kicked him out, and the game changed a little. A lot.

He’d found other kids, starving little things that needed his help and had no one else. At least Peter had Spider-Man.

So now, Peter gets to feel like a hypocrite because he takes and he takes and he takes, and Spider-Man is the only way he knows how to give back.

He takes in the amount of food they have left, noting with displeasure that they’ve only got four granola bars and half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and they can’t live off that for long. His kids need an actual meal, nourishment.

Peter ducks behind a dumpster and lets Spider-Man take the reins, tucking the hoodie he was wearing around one of the girls, Ava’s, small frame. She lays next to Oliver, age twelve, and Cassidy, age eight. The rage he feels, knowing that someone willingly abandoned these children, threatens to consume him, so he slides his mask on and does what he does best.

He runs.

* * *

“Aunt May, where’s Mommy and Daddy?” Peter asks innocently. He always loved going to his aunt and uncle’s house, but they haven’t been much fun this time and he’s starting to miss his parents.

May looks at the boy, eyes welling with tears, and takes a deep breath. How do you make a child understand that both of his parents are dead and never coming back? She kneels in front of him and gently takes his shoulders.

She looks up and curses whatever God there is for making her do this.

“Honey, your mommy and daddy… They’re in – ” she hesitates, because Ben was always the more religious of the two of them, but this is the only way she knows how to make Peter understand. “They went to Heaven.”

Peter looks up at her in confusion. “But when are they coming back?”

May looks at him, his eyes full of childish faith, and mourns for the loss that will happen once she utters her next words.

“They’re not.”

* * *

There is no one on this planet who hates Peter Parker as much as Peter does. He’s convinced that the only part of him that’s worth anything is Spider-Man. He doesn’t even blame May anymore.

He swings wildly through the streets, using his hands and feet to stick to the sides of buildings so as not to use too much of his limited supply of web fluid, and relishes at the way the wind snaps at his clothes.

If he closes his eyes, Peter can almost imagine that he’s leaving behind all the dirt and grime and ~~worthlessness~~ filth behind him. God, he’d kill for a hot shower. He hasn’t had one in over a month, if you can count using freezing tap water and hand soap from a public bathroom as a shower. (You can’t, but he does anyway.)

Peter hears a shout and zeroes in on a couple down the end of an alley. Everyone else is just walking by, because no one really has time to stop in New York ~~otherwise maybe they’d do more than just glance at children sleeping on freezing sidewalks with their skin stretched thin over bare skeletons~~ but Peter eyes the man’s hand yanking at a women’s wrist and he darts forward.

“Hey!” he shouts, running at them. “Let go of her!”

And the guy does, but it’s not out of the goodness of his own heart as much as it is surprise. The man sneers down at him.

“Oh, it’s the spider freak. Go scuttle off to your webs so me and this nice lady can have some fun. We were just about to get to the good part, after all,” he smirks, giving her a lewd look. “Besides, why don’t you go pick on someone your own size?”

Peter scoffs, shifting in front of the woman, who’s looking down and refusing to make eye contact with anyone. He can tell she’s shaking, and it takes everything in him not to pummel the disgusting man into the ground.

“That is literally the most overused line used by bullies and villains alike, and yet you guys continue to think you sound threatening or unique? Incredible,” Peter says, rolling his eyes under the goggles.

The man growls and rushes at him, but Peter merely presses the trigger of his web canister and webs him to the nearest wall. The man lets out a stream of curses, and Peter lazily aims at the man’s crotch and shoots out another string of webbing.

His subsequent howl and the small smile that quirks the woman’s lips is worth it.

(Yeah, Peter Parker isn’t worth shit. But Spider-Man saves people. Spider-Man makes them smile. And that’s worth something.)

* * *

Peter goes out of his _mind_ with excitement when Ben and May sit him down and tell him they’re finally taking him to the Stark Expo. He thinks maybe it’s because he asked for it for his birthday _and_ Christmas. That’s, like, doubly powerful.

He was too young to fully understand the cost of attending, much less the toll and the amount of saving Ben and May had to do, but it was all the kid had been able to talk about for nearly a year after watching a documentary on Stark’s technology over the years.

Sure, he didn’t understand half of it, but he did know way more than either Ben or May, so they figured seeing him in such an environment would be worth it.

So they took him through all the exhibits, watching fondly as the enthusiastic kid practically exploded in delight when he got to interact with one of Stark’s earlier AI’s. Peter asked questions about the programming and talked so fast that he didn’t even notice the looks of surprise on everyone’s face.

And when he got to hear _the_ Tony Stark give a speech, he listened intently, small frame vibrating in awe and wonder because that’s his idol! A real, live hero who likes science and is a nerd just like him!

And then the bad robots happened.

Everyone started running away, and somehow he got separated from his aunt and uncle. At first, he can’t help the fear that spikes through him at being away from his guardians in the face of these giant monstrosities.

But then he sees Iron Man flying through, going straight towards the robots while everyone else runs away in a panic. And Peter steels himself, because this is his chance! If Tony Stark can be brave, maybe he can too.

He slides his own Iron Man mask on and holds up his hand threateningly at the approaching robot that seems to have locked onto him. He wonders distantly whether his mom and dad are looking down at him with pride.

With all the innocent bravery only a kid can muster, he raises his arm and hears the sound of a repulser, flinching back when the giant bot explodes before him.

Peter looks up at the retreating figure.

He doesn’t know this now, but it’s not the last time Iron Man will save him.

* * *

“Petey, why doesn’t Mommy love me?” Ava asks, sitting on his lap as she munches on a bite of sandwich. He got lucky today. He found a completely unopened bag of chips that someone had just thrown out and ~~maybe that’s just something you can afford to do when you have money~~ Delmar gave away free sandwiches for the holidays.

Peter bounces the girl gently on his leg, smiling softly at the little giggle she lets out. “I don’t know, baby. Parents… Parents are confusing sometimes. I think they love us, but sometimes things happen, and their judgement gets clouded. They forget.”

She leans back and rests her head on his shoulders. “I miss Mommy,” she sniffles, and Peter hugs her tightly.

“I know you do. But I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

Oliver rolls his eyes at them across the alley.

“Your Mom doesn’t love you,” he says bluntly, and Peter tosses him a dirty look. He’s glad Cassidy is napping, because he knows she would throw a tantrum at Oliver’s words.

“Don’t say that!” Ava cries angrily. “She does love me! She only left me because the bad man told her she had to.”

Peter furrows his brows in surprise. This is news to him. “The bad man?” he asks, turning the girl to face him.

She nods violently, tears splashing down her red-splotched face. “Yeah. He told Mommy that – that he didn’t want me, and that if she didn’t get rid of me, he’d keep hitting us. I told her I don’t mind.”

Peter sees red.

All this time, he’d just assumed that they’d been heartlessly dumped on the side of the streets, not allowed to return home just like him. But this changes things. And yeah, how Ava’s mom handled it was straight up _wrong,_ but he also knows firsthand what desperation can make people do.

It’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation.

That night, he slips into his Spider-Man suit and makes his way to where Ava had said she lived. By dawn, Ava is reunited with her mother with promised weekly visits from Peter.

It’s not quite a happy ending, but it’s closer to one than any of them thought they’d get.

* * *

When Ben dies, he leaves Peter with blood-stained hands and a soul cracked right down the middle.

Sometimes, traumatic things happen to people, and they go into such a state of shock and numbness that they don’t even register what’s going on around them and barely remember what’s happened that day.

But not for Peter.

No, Peter remembers everything in sharp detail, thanks to the radioactive spider that bit him. He remembers the metallic scent of blood and he remembers the sound of Ben’s heart stopping and he remembers how still Ben’s body looked after he took his last breath.

He remembers all of it.

He remembers looking up at the sky and screaming at God because He took too much from him and _it’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not fair._

He remembers the moment he realized that God doesn’t care enough to save him anyway.

(So Peter learns to save himself.)

* * *

“Hey, kid! Wanna grab a bite with us?”

Peter nearly falls off the fucking building when freaking Iron Man _invites him out to eat_. He’s not exactly sure how this happened, but one minute he’s scooping people up and away from the streets, where some asshole villain (not that all villains aren’t assholes) had flooded them with some sort of toxic liquid, and the next minute, all the Avengers are helping him.

The bad guy was apprehended, of course.

He stares up at the figure of Iron Man hovering above him and stammers unintelligibly, and Peter is _so_ grateful for the mask so that his real face won’t ever be associated with this humiliating moment.

Hawkeye hops onto the roof next to Peter and claps him on the back.

“Yeah, come on, Spidey! You’ve got to be starving!”

Something in Peter tenses at how uncomfortably close to the truth that is, and his mind screams at him to run, but he forces himself to stay put and not act like an actual child.

“Uh, thank you, but I, um, really should get going? Probably?” He winces at how unsure of himself he sounds, and Tony scoffs.

“You don’t sound too sure of that yourself,” Tony points out, and Peter wants to slap himself. “If it’s your identity you’re worried about, you can keep the mask on. Just lift it over your mouth so you can eat. Tonight’s pizza night.”

And damn if Peter can’t turn down an offer for food. Besides, maybe he’ll be able to sneak a slice or two back to Cassidy and Oliver. They could definitely use a decent meal for once.

With that in mind, Peter tries to keep his cool and casually say, “Uh, I think I could maybe do that. I’ll just, uh, swing on over, I guess?”

“Good. FRIDAY, open up roof access for Spider-Man,” Tony commands before flying off. Clint just shakes his head and walks off, presumably to head in the same direction. Peter shakes his head, because _this is so unreal,_ and swings off towards the Tower.

He considers turning and leaving no less than eight times on the way there. Peter’s not an idiot. He knows people are dying to know the true nature of Spider-Man’s identity, and no doubt Stark probably has the technology to see straight through his mask.

But then his stomach pointedly reminds him that he hasn’t had any form of nourishment in three days since he’s only been able to scrounge up enough food for Ava and Oliver. So he swallows his pride and fear and enters the Tower where Tony had left a place for him to enter.

At first, he has no clue where to go, so he sort of just stands there awkwardly, but then a voice comes and relieves him of his predicament.

“Welcome, Spider-Man. Mr. Stark awaits your presence in the communal living area. Three floors down, then take a left, another left, and then a right,” a warm voice says above him. He’s rather proud of himself for not completely jumping out of his skin.

“Uh, thanks,” he says, and nervously follows her directions.

When he arrives, he’s hit with so many different emotions at once that he doesn’t know _what_ to think.

First of all, Peter is immediately struck by how _domestic_ the scene before him is. There are pizza boxes covering the island in the middle of the kitchen, and _holy shit that’s Black Widow!!!_ is perched on the counter, with Captain America leaning against the counter next to her.

Tony turns around when he enters.

“Oh, good, you made it! We wondered if you’d flake.”

Pepper smacks his arm. “Tony!” She turns to Peter, seemingly unfazed by the dingy mask he has on. “Ignore him. Insufferable. I’m Pepper,” she says, not even hesitating before coming forward and shaking his hand. “Come, eat as much as you want, and we’ll get you introduced to everyone.”

Peter stares at her faintly, wondering how all of his history has somehow managed to lead up to this very moment. He thinks he might explode just from being in the same room as literally all of his heroes.

“Oh my god, how could I _not_ know who everyone is already?” he blurts, eyes widening immediately afterward.

Rhodey, who’d been over on the couch, lets out a bark of laughter. “I like this kid, Tones. Can we keep him?”

“I’m not a kid!” Peter protests indignantly. Everyone stares at him disbelievingly, and Peter curses to himself.

“Hope you don’t kiss your mother with that mouth,” Clint jokes.

“Joke’s on you, I don’t have a mother,” Peter jokes reflexively. The room goes completely silent, and everyone looks mildly horrified, except for maybe Tony and Natasha, who just look vaguely interested.

Tony simply cocks his head and studies him for a moment before smirking slightly. “Touché, kid.”

“Not a kid,” Peter grumbles. If someone had told his before that one day he’d be standing in front of the actual Avengers while he makes an accidental orphan joke, he’d have laughed in their face.

Now, he’d rather just bury himself into the ground.

For a moment, conversation is stunted as Peter just stands there before Steve says, “Help yourself. We have plenty of pizza.”

Peter cautiously moves forward, grabbing a slice from the closest box ~~because when you’ve been starving, you forget how to be picky~~ and devours the slice in no more than two bites.

Sam, who’s sitting next to Rhodey on the couch, lets out a low whistle. “Whoa, Cap, his appetite might rival yours.”

Peter turns beet red, filling with shame because he’s ~~not worth the food~~ taking their food and he knows he looks like an absolute animal when he eats, but he can’t _help it,_ because ever since the bite, his appetite has been through the roof and all he gets to eat on a typical day is air and, if he’s lucky, scraps.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, looking down. Tony gives him a weird look.

“That is the most ridiculous apology I’ve ever heard,” he says bluntly. “Don’t apologize for eating. Jesus Christ.”

Peter just nods, feeling more than embarrassed, and when he hesitantly reaches for another slice, he catches Natasha giving him a piercing look. He freezes, feeling so ~~dirty filthy poor worthless~~ out of place, but then Natasha just tilts her head with a “go ahead” look, and Peter grabs a slice.

He takes his time, this time, fingers soaking in the unfamiliar feeling of warm food. He feels guilty, but he eats anyway.

Conversation picks up around him again, and he carefully sits on a barstool, not wanting to dirty any of the man’s expensive looking furniture. He looks around at the Avengers, struck by how mundane they are behind the scenes, and he curses himself for ever thinking differently.

He’s grateful that none of them pressure him to engage in conversation, and even more thankful that they respect him enough to not try prying into his true identity.

They look over at him a few times, shooting him quick and encouraging smiles, nonverbally letting him know that he’s allowed to join in on the conversation, but he chooses to keep to himself.

If he talks, too much of Peter Parker will show through, and Peter’s not worth listening to. Peter will say too much, because Peter hasn’t talked to someone who really wants to listen in such a long time. ~~He’s desperate and desperate people do desperate things.~~

When he glances up at the clock, he’s shocked to see that it’s been nearly four hours from the time he started rescuing people off the streets to now. His kids must be worried sick, and he should really get back.

Peter quietly gets up, turning his back to the group and grabbing three slices from an open box and stuffs them in his shirt, the bread an uncomfortable feeling against his skin. The back of his neck prickles, and he whirls around, sure he’s been caught.

But when he looks, everyone is engaged in conversation, and he lets out a breath of relief.

He carefully wraps an arm around himself to keep the pizza in place and clears his throat nervously.

“I, uh, really should get going now,” he says. “Thank you so much. I’m sorry if I, you know, intruded or whatever.”

Pepper waves his apology away. “Nonsense. You were invited!”

Peter just smiles and ducks his head, moving to head out. Right before he enters the hallway, he hears a voice call after him.

“Spider-Man!” Peter stops and finds Tony studying him. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Peter grins under the mask and waves. “Thanks! Goodbye, Mr. Stark!”

And then he’s gone.

* * *

“Peter, I don’t understand,” May tells him, sitting at the table. “What are you saying?”

He’s trying not to shake out of his skin as he explains the suit May pulled out of the dryer. She was supposed to work late, and he thought he’d have time to wash it.

At first, he tried to lie and say that he and Ned wanted to remake the Spider-Man suit for Halloween. And, to be fair, the lie would have sounded perfectly feasible, but it turns out Peter can’t live to save his life, and May knows him too well.

And to be honest, Peter’s tired of lying and sneaking behind her back. Maybe she won’t like it, but after Ben, maybe she’ll at least understand.

“I – I’m Spider-Man. I’m – I know I shouldn’t have kept it from you and gone behind your back like that, but after what happened – what happened to B-Ben, I – “ Peter trails off at the look of raw pain that flashes through her eyes when Peter says _his_ name.

May sits down, breathing heavily, and rakes through her hair tiredly. Peter gives her a moment to process, already resigning himself to being grounded for the rest of his life.

“How long?” is the first thing she asks.

He hesitates, knowing that once he tells her, she’ll know the ugliest part of him. The part that failed, the part that killed his uncle.

“Since the end of June,” he whispers, looking down.

She looks at him in confusion, shaking her head. “S-Since the end of June? But that was before…”

Peter nods, heart buried six feet under him. He thinks that maybe God switched Atlas out with Peter, that He made Peter hold up the sky to punish him for Ben, to punish him for everything that came afterwards.

May’s face crumples and she shakes her head in denial. “Why? Why didn’t you save him?” she asks, voice breaking, and Peter’s heart races.

“I-I’m so sorry, May. I wasn’t – I didn’t know how to use my powers yet,” he says desperately, voice rough with grief and guilt. “I didn’t. I – I failed. It’s my fault.”

And even though Peter blames himself entirely for not doing enough, a small part of him can’t help but hope May will shake her head and hug him and tell him it’s not his fault.

Instead, she lets out a sob, her frame shaking with grief, and Peter instinctively moves forward to hug her. She flinches away violently.

“Don’t,” she says lowly, voice thick with tears. “Just go, Peter. I can’t – I can’t look at you right now.”

Peter swallows the wounded that tries to escape his lips and looks at her brokenly.

“May, I – “ he tries desperately. (He should know by now that repentance never worked for him.)

“Go!” she cries, shaking apart and Peter takes one last look at her before turning and leaving, tears and self-loathing clogging his throat.

Every day, he comes back and knocks, and she always tells him the same thing. “I love you. But I’m not ready to see you yet.”

Eventually, Peter just stops trying.

* * *

“Peter, wake up.”

Peter’s eyes fly open to find Oliver and Cassidy hovering above him and shaking him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, immediately checking the boy over for injuries or signs of harm.

“Someone wants to see you,” Oliver whispers, pointing to the silhouette of a man standing at the end of their alley. Peter immediately stands up, shifting in front of his kids protectively.

The man puts his hands up and steps out of the shadow he’d been in. “Whoa, Spider-Man. Stand down.”

Peter stares incomprehensively at the sight of Tony Stark standing before him in a three-piece suit in the poorest part of Queens.

“W-What?” he stammers, panic racing through his body. “I-I’m not Spider-Man. You must have the wrong person.”

Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “Do I? So you’re not Peter Parker, son of the late Mary and Richard Parker, who went missing a few months ago?”

And damn if Tony got it all right. That didn’t stop Peter from trying. “I’m Peter, but I don’t know Spider-Man. You’re wrong,” he says, sticking his chin up.

Tony isn’t fazed. “According to FRIDAY, Spider-Man, couldn’t have been older than age sixteen or seventeen. Which makes sense, because Peter Parker was pulled out of high school. Oh, and Spider-Man stopped working right around the time Peter stopped turning up to school. When Spider-Man was next spotted, he looked like he’d been through the ringer. Started losing weight. Have I gotten anything wrong yet?”

Peter looks down, heart racing, because no one has ever known of his alter ego and his brain is screaming at him to run. A tug at his sleeve startles him.

“Peter? Are we in trouble?” Cassidy asks in a small voice. He runs his fingers through her hair tenderly.

“No, babe. I promise. Just stay here while I go talk with the nice man,” Peter croons, walking towards Tony.

For a while, they just walk, and Peter tugs on his sleeves with anxiety. Eventually, Tony looks over at him.

“You can relax, kid. I’m not here to hurt you. On the contrary, I’m here to make an offer,” he says, stopping and putting his hands in his pockets.

Peter looks up at him in surprise, eyes wide. “W-What? An offer?”

“Yup. I’ll make it short: Come live us.”

Peter nearly chokes, sure he’s heard wrong. There is _no way_ Iron Man is standing before Peter Parker and asking him to live with the Avengers.

“ _Why?”_ Peter asks, unable to ask anything else.

Tony sighs. “Well, first of all, you’re living on the streets. That can’t be fun. But also. Natasha followed you after you left. We know the conditions you live in. And yet you continue to give back. You look out for the little guy, and we could use a little more of that in the Avengers.”

Peter takes a moment to process that, unable to believe what he’s hearing. He considers what the man is saying, expecting him to yell, “Psyche!” at any moment. But Tony merely continues to look at him with a serious face.

“I – “ Peter looks around helplessly. “I can’t. Thank you so much, I can’t even _believe_ you’d offer something like this, but I just – I just can’t.”

“Why?” Tony asks, voice without judgement but full of curiosity.

“I can’t leave Oliver and Cassidy,” Peter says.

“We’ll have them taken care of,” Tony immediately says. Peter glares at him.

“They’re _not_ being placed into the system,” Peter says crossly, and Tony puts his hands up.

“They wouldn’t be, I promise. They’d be placed in a home where they’d be well loved and taken care of. And you could visit them whenever you want to make sure I’m not lying,” Tony tells him. “If I could make that happen, would you come with me?”

Peter looks away, biting his tongue in thought. How could this be real? How could they want _him,_ of all people?

( ~~They don’t want Peter. They want Spider-Man.~~ )

But god, as long as his kids are okay, then Peter has nothing to lose. Not really. He doesn’t have any family left. All he has is Spider-Man.

“Okay,” Peter says, looking straight into Tony’s eyes, and Tony smiles slightly, clapping him on the back.

“Good choice, kid. You’re one of us now.”

With those words, the sky lifts.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so I don't expect anyone to actually like this one. But it's very personal to me, and I've really wanted to write something where Peter has to grapple with these two sides of himself, as well as the loss of faith that can happen when the world kicks you down again and again, and the realization that sometimes you have to save yourself. I'll probably write a sequel at some point.
> 
> So, I really hope you guys liked this anyway, but I understand if it's not your cup of tea! If you liked it, please leave a comment or kudos!!
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr @the-great-escapism. I'm awkward but I still love talking to people!


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